Good Things Do Happen
by EnchiladaDan
Summary: Dean & Cas negotiate their new relationship. Sam and Dean continue to hunt small game while Cas adjusts to life as a human and Kevin continues to try translating the Angel Tablet. Cute, domestic slice-of-life stuff, with the odd bit of angst thrown in. Realistic relationship. Explicit Content. Part 2 of the "Because We're Family" series.
1. Chapter 1

**Home is where you make it**

"So, uh, you mean it? You wanna be with me, like, together?"

"Yes, Dean. I want you to be my … partner?" He was still struggling with colloquialism.

Dean quirked a grin and answered, "How about boyfriend? It's less ambiguous."

"If we're trying to convey clarity, why don't I just call you my lover?"

Dean's smile faltered, embarrassed. "This isn't a romance novel, Cas. It's outdated. These days, sex in relationships is basically assumed."

"You have a point. Okay then, '_boyfriend_'." Cas smiled a slow, dopey smile, and Dean grabbed his hand.

"Now that you're my boyfriend, Cas, we should probably tell the guys."

Cas raised his eyebrows and replied, "I think Sam already knows. He saw me leaving your room last Friday morning."

"Well, he didn't know for _sure_. Besides, Kevin doesn't know." Cas nodded, and they left Dean's room.

Sam and Kevin were sitting at a long table in the study, poring over the same book and arguing about lore. Dean walked in, Cas trailing behind him.

"Hey guys," Dean greeted, hoping he sounded casual. They looked up.

"Hey Dean," Sam said, trying to slide the book closer to him. Kevin yanked the book back, and glared at Sam.

"So are you two here to help us do research?"

"Uh, no. Actually, I –" he glanced at Cas and amended, "we wanted to talk to you two." By this time, Cas was standing off to his right, but said nothing (as was his custom), just nodded when Dean spoke. Sam sat back in his chair, and Kevin marked his page before closing the book.

"What's up?" Sam asked, as Dean took a seat at the end of the table. Cas sat down in the closest available chair, his hands palms down on the table. Dean leaned forward, his hands clasped in front of him. He was silent for a while, his jaw trembling a bit as he worked up the nerve.

"Right. Well, Cas and I talked for a while, and uh, I – we – wanted you two to be the first to know." He stopped to clear his throat, his eyes darting from Sam to Kevin, then back down to the table. "We're … together." He reached out and grabbed Cas' hand, squeezing tight. Sam just sat there smiling, the worry from a moment ago erased from his face entirely. Kevin, meanwhile, knit his brows in confusion. He looked up at each of their faces in turn.

"Wait, what?" He looked over at Sam. "Did _you_ know about this?"

"I had an idea," Sam hedged, and Kevin looked between the two again disbelievingly.

"Like _together,_ together?" Cas looked up from their clasped hands and stared at Kevin.

"Yes, Dean is my boyfriend."

Kevin looked down at their clasped hands, and then to Dean, who nodded at him. Then he looked back to Cas. "So Cas, you're… gay?"

Cas chuckled softly, easing some of the tension in the room. "Uh, no. I'm … well, we're both – Dean, what was the word?"

"Bisexual," Dean finished.

Kevin still had his eyebrows raised in surprise, but he finally broke into a wry smile. "Well, congrats." Dean and Cas visibly relaxed, and Sam cleared his throat.

"So, are you guys going to tell other people?"

Dean shrugged: "When necessary, I guess. I mean, it's not a secret."

"Wow, really?" Sam asked. Who was this man, and what had he done with his older brother?

"_Yes_, Sammy. You got a problem with that?" he retorted gruffly, but there was a hint of fear in his green eyes.

"No, not at all. Just surprised, is all." He raised his hands as if to add, "honest."

"Well, I'm too old to be playing games, and it's not like there's anyone I gotta hide it from, so yeah – I'm_ out_."

Sam gave his brother a huge smile. He was genuinely proud – it couldn't have been easy. He'd seen the look his brother had given Cas since the day the former-angel rebelled, and this had been a long time coming.

By this point, Kevin had moved to the chair next to Castiel. Although the two had initially gotten off to a rough start, Cas was slowly growing on him. And now that he didn't have the urgency of heaven's work pressing on him, he treated Kevin kindly, a welcome addition to the close-knit group. He'd been murmuring to Castiel for a few minutes now, but Dean caught his last question: "So which one of you tops?"

Dean could feel the back of his neck growing red as Cas answered, "I suppose Dean would."

He stood up from the table suddenly, exclaiming, "Dammit, Cas!"

Dean stormed away, but not before he heard his brother scold, "Kevin, that's private - not cool." Cas caught up to him once he was back in his bedroom.

Kevin chuckled, and moved back to his seat across from Sam. "Relax. I didn't know he'd _actually_ answer."

This is CAS we're talking about. He doesn't really _get_ 'private'."

"Okay, okay," Kevin conceded. "But for the record, that's the only private thing I asked him."

"Whatever. Okay, well now that they've 'come out', back to research."

"Right…" Kevin agreed, the smile quickly leaving his face.

"You're upset."

"Damn right I'm upset, Cas, I didn't say you could blab the details of our sex life to the resident nerd."

"I don't understand. We don't have a sex life."

He sighed heavily. "Look Cas, I should've warned you about this. People who _aren't_ in relationships get nosy to people who _are_. Just don't tell people what we do in private, all right?"

"Very well, Dean."

"Okay, we're good. C'mere." Dean pulled Cas in tight for a hug.

During the next few days, they became gradually more affectionate with each other in the bunker. On Monday, they held hands while watching a movie. On Tuesday, Cas came up behind Dean while he was cooking, and wrapped his arms around Dean's waist, kissing the back of his neck. On Wednesday, Dean gave Cas a good-morning peck on the cheek in the kitchen as Cas handed him a cup of coffee. On Thursday, Kevin walked in on them kissing in the library. By Friday, they were watching telenovelas in the den, spooning on the couch.

Sam swatted at Dean's feet, and got him to give up a cushion so he could sit down. Sam reached forward toward the bowl of in front of him, and popped a piece of popcorn in his mouth; he chewed thoughtfully for a second before asking, "Why do you guys _watch_ this stuff?"

Dean smirked at his little brother: "Cas speaks Spanish. And this show has enough cognates that I get the gist."

"You know Spanish, Cas?"

"Of course. I was there when the Tower of Babel fell." Sam laughed, and turned back to the screen.

"_¡Ay, dios mío! Mi amor… estoy enamorada con tu gemelo. __¡Yo lo siento mucho!"_

Dean gasped, and pointed at the screen: "I knew it!"

Sam knit his eyebrows, eyeing Dean warily: "What?"

"Maria's in love with Javier's twin brother, Esteban."


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: Warning - brief, indirect talk about bodily functions.

**Confusion Abounds**

"Dean, we should discuss consummation."

The blonde's eyes widened and he looked around at the other patrons in the bar. The bar was packed, despite it being off the beaten path; drunken twenty-somethings were crowded around the jukebox or dancing in groups. He couldn't believe Sam wanted to meet him _here_. "Not _now_, Cas. Wait 'til we get back to the hotel."

Cas nodded, but looked displeased as he sipped his beer. Just then, a svelte woman with thick, wavy hair and sharply winged eyeliner sauntered up to their table. "Hey, cutie," she greeted, smiling at Cas, with her back to Dean. "I'm Dana. Wanna dance?" She flipped her long, black hair over her shoulder, and leaned down to him, winking. He was tempted: Dana's blue dress was tight and low-cut, and offset her dark skin well. He licked his lips nervously, which she took as a sign of interest. She wrapped a hand around his, and squeezed.

"I'm sorry, I'm taken," he replied; Dean looked up from his phone, and smirked.

"Come on baby, I'm sure she won't mind …" She got up close, and Castiel could smell the tequila on her breath.

Cas cleared his throat: "Yeah, but _he_ might," he retorted, pointing a finger at Dean's face. She took a second to look Dean up and down, scoffed and walked away. Dean to let out a low chuckle, and shook his beer bottle, noticing it was empty. Cas smiled and drained his beer.

"I'll get you another," Dean offered, and strode over to the bar. He found an empty spot near a short redhead with glossy pink lips and large hazel eyes. His eyes caught hers for a moment in the mirror above the bar, and he grinned in spite of himself: although the fake eyelashes might have been a bit much, the way her tank top clung to her frame and short pleated skirt left almost nothing to the imagination made the blonde feel hot under the collar. Just then, the bartender popped up, and he gave his order. When the man moved, the redhead's gaze was still on the mirror, her hand absently playing with one of the pink straps on her shirt: she flashed him a flirty, buy-me-a-drink smile. She sat up on the stool, her cleavage heaving.

He grabbed the beers and as he turned to leave, she asked in a high voice, "Going so soon?"

He smirked at her, the momentary spell broken: "Sorry toots – I'm already here with someone." He waved to Cas, who waved back.

"Your loss," she retorted, and turned away from him. He went back to their table, where they waited for Sam to show.

"Now that we have privacy, I would like to return to our previous conversation," Castiel began.

"How many times do I have to tell you? It doesn't matter if we sleep in the same bed at night – _you don't change the station when I'm pumping gas_."

He gave a little huff of exasperation: "No, not that. I meant consummation." Dean could feel his ears beginning to turn red, but he tried his best to keep a neutral expression.

"What's to talk about? Shouldn't we just go with the flow?" If he was honest with himself, he was surprised Cas was already thinking about sex. It had only been a few weeks.

"Dean … do you know what to do?"

"I mean, I've never done it, but it seems pretty self-explanatory. Use lube, and insert tab A into slot B." Jeez, if he was feeling so on-the-spot and embarrassed just talking about it, how was he going to do it?

"Your explanation leaves something to be desired. We need to research this… I- I'm not comfortable." Cas' eyes became nearly apologetic.

Dean's expression turned serious, and he pulled an old laptop out of his nightstand. "All right, all right. Guess it's time for us to watch some porn."

Dean popped into the den, and found Sam watching an old Batman movie. "Hey. Where's the shrimp?" He looked around, as if Kevin was lurking in some corner he'd overlooked.

"Sleeping. He's been working on the tablet for the last 38 hours," Sam answered, taking a sip of his beer.

"Oh… good. I wanted to talk to you alone, actually."

"Alone? Where's Cas? You two have been attached at the hip lately." This time, it was Sam's turn to look around inquisitively.

"Supply run," Dean answered, failing to elaborate.

"…Right. So, what's up?"

Dean sat down on the couch, and started fiddling with the remote. "I know you don't like to talk about your sex life, but this is important."

Sam took a deep breath, put his beer down and asked uncertainly, "Uh-huh?.."

"Can't believe I'm even doing this, but here goes: have you ever… put it in the back door?" Dean scrubbed his face with his hand and Sam's eyes widened.

"Whoa… okay, you _do_ know I'm straight, right?"

"_Yes_, Sammy," he answered, annoyed. "But you've been in real relationships before. I figure, after a while Jess or Amelia let you?"

Sam's expression darkened at the mention of Jess's name. He knit his brows, and steeled his jaw. Dean realized his mistake, and muttered a "Shit, I'm sorry," and stood up.

He walked by Sam's knees when Sam reached out and grabbed his wrist. "Sit down, jerk." Dean chanced a smile at him, and sat back down.

"Bitch," he responded, and the light of his brother's smile slowly eased his expression, until all that remained was the dark look in his eyes. He sighed, and was quiet for a few more minutes before he said, "I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you, but yeah – _once_."

"How do you –" Dean cleared his throat, "What are you supposed to do?"

"Wait – you and Cas haven't..?"

"Uh no, not yet. You wouldn't believe how unhelpful porn is."

Sam laughed entirely too hard at that, and once he'd calmed down replied, "Okay, well you have to go _really_ slow, and use a ton of lube. Like, an excessive amount. But the most important thing is prep, you have to get the other person ready; like, use fingers or your tongue to stretch them out. I'm sure there are videos online…"

He took a deep breath, and thought for a moment. "Keep that up until they say they're ready. Oh, and I guess with guys, you would try to find the prostate."

Dean looked at him skeptically, and asked, "Wait, the thing that gets cancer and makes it hard to pee?"

"Yeah… But when there's not cancer, it's like a male g-spot. Just Google it."

"Thanks, Sammy." Dean left the den, still thoroughly embarrassed but much less nervous.

Dean spent the next three days "researching". At the end of the third day he lay sprawled out on his bed, laptop open, when Cas came into the room. "Hey," he started, "I think maybe we should talk about this more."

Cas sat in the chair opposite the bed and replied, "Okay, Dean."

"So according to this, apparently most guys 'switch': sometimes they top, sometimes they bottom. When we 'consummate', what d'you wanna do?"

"You don't have a preference?"

"Well I do, but I think I could be a switch. You know, over time."

"Since you have more experience, I think it would be wisest if you 'topped' the first time. But I would like to switch, as well."

"Okay, we're on the same page then. So I've pretty much got it figured out, but we gotta practice."

"Practice?" Cas echoed, squinting at him.

"The prep, at least. We have to get you comfortable … physically."

Cas still seemed fairly confused, so Dean handed him the laptop: "Just read that article." He mentioned something about showering, and left him to it.

When he got back, Cas was sitting cross-legged, eyebrows knit in concentration. "Did you want to do this tonight?"

"If you want to," Dean answered, caught off-guard.

Cas stood up suddenly: "I trust you can set up while I shower." He left the room and Dean skimmed over the article Cas had up – there, at the bottom, was a bullet list entitled "Set up".

Cas returned and noticed a bottle of lube on the nightstand, and Dean under the covers. He dropped his towel and crawled into bed, pleased to find him equally-naked. They kissed for awhile, rutting together. When Cas finally broke away, he just looked into Dean's eyes and nodded. "On your knees, or back?" Dean asked, warming his hands on the back of his neck.

He moved, getting onto his hands and knees: "It'll be easier this way."

Dean caressed his back, making his way to his buttocks. "Are my hands too cold?"

"No, they're fine," Cas answered, as Dean cupped his cheeks in both hands. He moved slowly inward, making his way to the cleft, and pulled them apart, getting to look at his tight pink hole for the first time.

"You okay, Cas?"

"Of course, Dean. We haven't started yet."

Dean just smirked, and reached for the bottle of lube. He coated a few fingers on one hand, and brushed his fingertips across the hole. Dean used his other hand to rub Cas' back as he stroked the outside. "Just breathe out," Dean directed. Very slowly, he eased a finger inside. "You okay?"

"It, uh, feels weird."

"Want me to stop?" he asked, concerned.

"No, it's okay," he replied, "It's fine."

He breathed deeper, and Dean experimentally worked the digit in and out as Cas slowly got used to the feeling. When he was comfortable, Dean added another finger. The stretch and slight pain of the intrusion caused Cas to let out a groan.

"Maybe that's enough for today," he said, his fingertips dragging back out.

"No." Cas reached back, and grabbed for Dean's hand. He missed but the point was taken, as he continued somewhat breathlessly, "I want to keep going."

He shifted back into place, and Dean pushed back in, the fingers crooked down as Cas clenched tight. He gasped suddenly. "Do that again," he ordered, pressing back against Dean's hand.

As Dean brushed the area, a harsh moan left his throat.

He smiled and murmured, "Got it." He reached forward, taking Cas' cock into his grip. He stroked gently, testing out a rhythm until he could move both hands at once. He couldn't see Cas' face, but if his gasps were anything to go by, he'd gotten the hang of it. "Can you handle more?"

"Ye-es," he answered breath shaky. He withdrew his fingers, re-lubing before a third joined them. As he breached the ring of muscle, Cas grunted, his legs trembling. He leaned forward again, stroking Cas to put him at ease. As he stroked slowly from the inside, stretching him out, he listened for any small sounds Cas might give. That was the problem with Castiel: he was stubborn. Dean worried he'd push himself to the point of pain just to prove he could take it. He crooked his fingers again, and was rewarded with a shudder. Dean stroked his cock faster, alternating stretching Cas with brushing his prostate.

"_Dean_," Cas began, an edge of panic in his voice. "_I'm going t-_" A guttural moan cut off his sentence, and Dean made fast work of removing his fingers before he stroked him to completion.

As he slumped across Cas' back stroking, he murmured, "Took it so good," and kissed the back of his neck.

Cas, struggling with the difficulty of holding himself up as his orgasm coursed through him whimpered "_Dean_", before reverting to rough pants as his release covered Dean's hand. Cas gingerly maneuvered onto his side, his eyes squeezed tight with exhaustion.

Dean quickly pulled his boxers up with one hand, and said, "Cas, I'll be right back." He scrubbed his hands thoroughly and came back with a warm washcloth. Cas hadn't moved an inch; in fact, he seemed to be sleeping. He scrubbed at the white marks on his comforter before he shifted in behind him. Using one hand to crook his leg up, the other gently wiped the lube from his legs. As he dipped it in between Cas' cheeks, he heard a startled noise.

"Dean, what are you doing?"

"Relax, I'm just cleaning you up."

Cas shifted position suddenly, so he was kneeling on the bed. With an odd expression on his face, he looked at Dean and quickly responded, "I can do it myself."

He stood up and snatched his underwear from the bed, stepping into them before heading out. He looked at his retreating figure for a moment, eyebrows raised. He figured Cas would be back soon, and shrugged, throwing the cloth in his hamper. He lay back against the bed, palming himself to relieve some of the pressure from his unsatisfied erection.

After a while had gone by, he began to get concerned; Cas still hadn't come back. Had he made him bleed? Or worse – was he taking some sort of sodomy-purification shower? When they started this up, they hadn't talked in much depth about how cool Cas was with all this gay stuff. Maybe he wanted to be _with_ Dean, but not fuck him.

Shit … had Dean pressured him? He stood up and walked out of the room, stomach flipping uncomfortably. He turned, ready to head towards the bathroom when he noticed the light on under Castiel's door. He rapped lightly: "Cas, you okay?"

"I'm fine, Dean. I'll be back in a minute." He didn't sound particularly upset or alarmed, so Dean didn't push him. He'd talk when he'd talk.

He went back to his room, and crawled under the covers. Annoyed he still hadn't softened, he wrapped a hand around himself and stroked slowly… Some ten minutes later, he heard a knock at the door. "Dean, can I come in?"

His hand stilled, and voice thick with lust, he managed a "Yeah," breathing hard. As Cas shut the door behind him, he answered, "You're going to have to give me a minute. I was jerking off." Cas moved towards the bed, as Dean slid his boxers back up.

"Then why did you let me in?"

"Coulda been important. Or…" When he didn't seem to get the hint, Dean sighed: "Or you could help me out."

No sooner had the words left his mouth that Cas had dove under the covers and was pulling his underwear down. His mouth was on him in the next minute, and Dean groaned. He'd been excited for so long that he came embarrassingly fast, uttering a strained "_Cas!_" before words left him.

Cas surfaced, and curled up at Dean's side. "Good?" he asked, a hand covering his freckled chest.

"You're always good," he answered, curling an arm around Cas' shoulders. He kissed his forehead and asked, "You okay?"Cas shifted uncomfortably, biting his lip. "Is it…" he trailed off, trying to get the words out, "a sodomy thing?"

Cas let out a bark of laughter. "I'm guessing not, then," Dean replied dryly, as Cas continued to laugh, wiping the tears from his eyes.

Once he was able to school his expression into something halfway serious, he replied, "I keep forgetting that that word has a different connotation on earth. Dean, do you know the story of Sodom and Gomorrah?" Dean shook his head.

"Although the word sodomy has been adopted to mean 'non-vaginal intercourse,' it comes from much darker roots. Sodom and Gomorrah were wicked places that God saw fit to… cleanse. The men of Sodom were particularly evil: Two angels descended from heaven and the men meant to… have their way with them."

"Wait – some guys gang-raped angels?"

"They tried to, but Lot stopped them. But the_ idea_ of it stoked the fire of my Father's rage more than anything else could have. He burned the men alive, and the rest of the town with it in a rain of fire and brimstone. Gomorrah suffered a similar fate."

Dean just looked at him dumbstruck. "So if it's all the same to you, I'd rather we not use that word. I still remember the way they looked when they returned to heaven. The seed of doubt in humanity was truly sown that day."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"But to answer your question, I don't have a problem with anal intercourse or fellatio. I would not engage in it otherwise."

Dean quirked a smile at that, and asked, "Okay, well then what?" Cas was quiet. "Was it the washcloth thing – did it feel weird? I was just going off the website…" He thought for a moment. "Did you think I was rimming you? Because I wouldn't spring that kinda thing on you, I swear."

"No, I didn't think it was analingus… I don't understand this body. Its urges still confuse me."

Dean chuckled, and deadpanned, "So you had to go to the bathroom. Big deal, we all do that."

"I - I thought I did, but I didn't."

"Did you even read the article?"

"Of course, Dean."

"Well, what did you think they meant by 'the urge to go'?"

"I thought they meant physically fleeing."

"Well, now you've felt both of those. Just… let me know you're coming back if you leave again, okay?"

"Okay," Cas agreed, and Dean kissed his forehead, before they fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's note: Warning: Internalized homophobia.

**Be Good to Me**

They spent the next week "practicing". Every other day, at Cas' discretion, they would work on "opening him up" as Dean called it. Near the end of the week, he was positioned behind Cas, four fingers sunk inside of him when a knock came at Dean's door.

"Dean?" Sam asked.

He felt Cas clench tightly around him as he answered, "Go away. Fucking." Sam made a traumatized noise, and his footsteps quickly retreated.

Cas slowly relaxed, his body once again pliant under Dean: "Dean, we're not fucking." He stroked a few fingertips along Cas' prostate and the man gave a sharp gasp.

"I know him – if we would've ignored him, he would've stood outside until I opened the door." Cas nodded, trying to control his breathing as he felt his limbs beginning to shake. "But we've been at this for an hour," Dean continued, marveling at the picture his ass made stretched out like this. "I wanna see you cum."

The next morning, Dean sat at the kitchen table sipping a cup of coffee, and pouring himself a bowl of cereal. Sam noticed him en route to the coffee maker, and visibly started. He gave a nod and poured himself a cup before sitting down. "Hey, uh, sorry if I interrupted your guys' first time."

A smile played on his lips as he replied, "You didn't – we weren't _actually _fucking. But we _were_ doing something sexual, and you're a boner-killer."

Sam bitch-faced him, before a thought occurred to him. "So you two still haven't done it? Wow, this must be some sort of record for you."

"No kidding. But if dude's not ready, he's not ready." He shrugged his shoulders, and started rummaging through the fridge.

Later that day, Sam found Cas sitting in the library, studying a book of angels. "At least half of this is wrong," he remarked, setting it aside.

"Hey Cas, can I ask you a personal question?"

"Of course. What is it, Sam?"

"How… is _all this_ for you?" Sam gestured helplessly, hoping Cas grasped the idea.

"You're referring to my homosexual relationship with your brother."

"Y – Yeah," Sam responded, his cheeks pinkening a bit under Cas' steady gaze.

"When I first rebelled against heaven, it was because your brother stoked a fire in me. The righteous indignation I felt over the corruption of my brethren was new and terrifying; but this man… this 'righteous man' was unerring in his convictions, and it set me on the right course to correct what I _knew_ to be wrong. Your brother… he is not a perfect man. He is sometimes immoral and often makes mistakes, as do all humans. But his heart is sure. He is loyal to a fault and every sacrifice he has made has been for those he calls his family, myself included. I have spent years puzzling out exactly what Dean Winchester means to me, and the answer is _everything_."

Sam sat there stunned. He slowly broke into a smile, and clapped the former-angel on the shoulder. "Okay… Um, good." Sam had gotten closer with Cas, but he still didn't know how to react to news this big. He took a sip of his beer, wondering if he should say more. Cas, on the other hand, realized that the moment had passed and turned his attention to a stack of books on the table.

He picked up a yellow hardcover book with the image of a redheaded girl painted on it, and Sam did a double-take, peering more closely.

"Is that a 'Nancy Drew' book?"

"Yes. I find the simple mysteries refreshing," Cas responded, blithely turning a page.

"Okay… That's cool, I guess. Just don't let Dean catch you with that. You'll never live it down." Sam briefly remembered his own short-lived romance with _The Hardy Boys_.

"This is the fifteenth in the series," Castiel replied. "He's already seen me. He calls them my 'pretty princess' books. _I don't care_." Sam smirked – he was beginning to see what his brother saw in the man.

As if summoned by Sam's thoughts, Dean appeared at the doorway. "Cas, put down 'pretty princess' and meet me in the den. 'Los Preciosos y Fabulosos' is about to start." His lips quirked up into a gentle smile as Dean disappeared, and he stood up, book in hand.

"You're welcome to join us Sam," he offered, before he turned and left the room.

That evening, Kevin strode into the kitchen where Dean was cooking dinner. Cas sat at the table reading a bright yellow book, engaging in mono-syllabic conversation with his boyfriend. "What are you cooking?" he asked, announcing his presence in case the two were having a private conversation.

"Dinner. Spaghetti and meatballs. Taste." He held out a wooden spoon coated in tomato sauce. He took the spoon from Dean and licked it, before running it under the tap.

As he handed the spoon back, he replied, "Needs more oregano."

"Thanks, man. Cas is no help." Cas just made a noise of disagreement in response, as Kevin pulled out a chair. Dean had long since forgiven Kevin by now, but he turned the stove hood down, still keeping an ear out when Kevin talked to his boyfriend.

"Are you reading 'Nancy Drew'?"

"The social intricacies used to project feminism to girls in the 1930's were complex."

"He gives a different answer any time someone asks. The world may never know," Dean added, chuckling.

The next day as Kevin made lunch, Sam and Dean sat in the living room, talking. "Dean, can I ask you a serious question?" Cas was nowhere nearby, instead holed up in his room with his yellow books.

"Talk to me."

"Why aren't you freaking out?"

"'bout what?" he asked, taking a sip of his beer.

Sam laughed, it coming out somewhat like a scoff. "This whole 'you and Cas' thing. Not only are you _not_ freaking out about dating a guy, but you're surprisingly cool about him not putting out. It's just… weird."

"Didn't we already go over this?"

Well, not _really_. I guess I just want to understand." Even though he knew it wasn't his place to meddle, after yesterday's conversation, Sam felt he owed it to Cas to know his brother's prospective on the relationship.

Dean raised his eyebrows, giving his brother an appraising look. He took a long drink from his bottle, before answering: "Truth is I've spent the last two years being 'freaked out' about being into Cas. I thought, _what would dad think_? I thought, why would he want me? I spent more nights than I can count trying to block out my feelings, trying to force out the thoughts. So I drank myself to sleep, nothin' new there. But sometimes I'd wake up in a cold sweat, this sick feeling in my gut. The only thought in my head those nights would be '_FAGGOT_'." Dean paused, taking a sip of beer, his eyes glassy.

He took a deep breath, meeting his brother's eyes before he continued, "Then, we met Charlie; she made me realize that who I like doesn't change _who_ _I am_. Then purgatory happened, and faced with all those _actual_ abominations, I finally began to feel like maybe I wasn't one." He paused again, his jaw trembling. He took a deep breath, and relaxed, a smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

" So… the dating thing is actually a relief. There's only two other ways this could've gone: either I made a move and he turned me down, or we hooked up and then avoided eye contact and been awkward. Well… _more_ awkward," he amended, seeing his brother's smirk.

Dean finished off his beer, and continued, "And as for the sex thing, well… he puts out, okay? Maybe not that way, not _yet_, but I'm not hurting. And I'd rather have him …I – I care about the guy."

Sam started, and stared at Dean for awhile before answering, taking sips of his beer while his brain reeled a million thoughts a minute. He was trying to work out what he should say, but there was so much and alternately nothing he could reply with. "Wow. Okay… well, okay."

He landed on a non-sequitur, knowing it had been hard enough for his brother to even _tell_ him this stuff, and that he certainly didn't want to linger on it. _No chick flick moments_, Dean would say. Dean smirked – it had been years since he'd rendered him speechless. But Sam had to know, so he did ask one more question: "Have you told him?"

"No, and _you'd_ better not. I – I'm working on it." Dean muttered something about getting another beer, and joined Kevin in the kitchen.

Later that night, he and Cas lay in Dean's bed, the dark-haired man curled up against his chest. "Dean, are you okay?"

"I can't complain: I got my best guy with me, and I haven't been bit by a vamp or scratched by a werewolf in a while." Castiel glowed with the praise, smirking into Dean's t-shirt.

"Does it bother you that we haven't consummated yet?"

"Jeez Cas, what is it with you and that word?" He sighed: "What's this really about?"

"You will tire of me. Sexual congress is important to you."

"Dammit… Listen, will you? I already explained this to Sammy: I like you. You know I'm not good at this emotional crap. But if you wanna wait, we'll wait." He rubbed his forehead, before continuing, "Despite what everyone else seems to think, I _am _capable of keeping it in my pants."

Cas turned to meet his eyes, seeing the sincerity there, and he replied, "Thank you, Dean." After turning off the light, Dean kissed his head, and they drifted off to sleep.

The next week passed quickly: they took out a nest of vamps the next state over and only had a day to relax before they were off on a ghoul hunt. Despite Cas' pleas, he and Kevin had to stay behind.

"It's not safe for you," Dean barked as he brought the target closer, and gestured to the missed shots.

"You let me go with you and Sam before," he replied petulantly.

"That was a simple 'salt and burn.' But you could get seriously hurt here, and no matter how good Sam is at doctoring people up, nothing can help a ghoul eating your hand off."

Cas nodded grumpily, spending the days reading and researching with Kevin. At night he tossed and turned in Dean's bed, trying to get comfortable. He breathed in the heady scent of gun powder, barley, and Dean's toothpaste as he hugged Dean's favorite pillow. He ignored the hollow ache in his chest, yellow books piling up on the nightstand as sleep eluded him yet again.

After nearly a week had passed, Cas started sleeping in his own room again. It didn't matter – Dean's bed didn't smell like Dean anymore, and he didn't sleep anyway. After hitting yet another block in the research, he set the book down, slamming his hands on the table. The stacks of books atop the rich wood surface vibrated with the force of his outburst. Kevin looked up from his notebook, annoyed. "I already _have_ a headache, you know."

"I have to get out of here. It's been two weeks since I've even seen the sun."

"So? You're safe here, and so am I." He raised an eyebrow, and set his notebook down. "Once grumpy and gangly get back, I'm sure they'll take us somewhere, if only because putting four grown men in a cave and making them live off frozen burritos is a bad idea."

"No, we need out. We need _fresh air, sunlight_. I miss the bees…"

"The bees? Jesus, is this another one of your psychotic breaks?"

"What? No, we're running out of everything except bullets."

"Even if we did go outside, we'd have to hitch-hike to the store and back. We're in the middle of nowhere, remember?" In response, Cas let out a frustrated growl and stomped off.

The next morning, Sam and Dean came back to a spotless bunker, and a very irritated Castiel. Kevin looked even more weary than usual, and asked if they could stretch their legs. After searching high and low, Dean found Cas on the far end of the shooting range, practicing archery. He eyed him appraisingly for a moment, before entreating, "Come on Robin Hood, let's go out." He dropped his bow, and shrugged off his quiver, the knit of his eyebrows slowly relaxing as he turned to follow Dean.

After a long trip to the park (Dean was still terrible at Frisbee), and an impromptu visit to a local lake (Cas was the only one who didn't seem to mind skinny-dipping), they spent the last shred of sunlight eating ice cream on the hood of the impala. "Look at us, eh Sammy? Celebrating a hunt with ice cream instead of beer and pay-per-view."

"Yeah, the world's gotten strange lately," he agreed, smirking into his waffle cone.

"We're out of beer," Cas stated.

"Yeah, yeah. We'll go grocery-shopping."

Later that night, Kevin hauled paper bags, flanked by the others as they made their way inside the bunker. As they put the food away, Kevin remarked, "That's the most normal day I've had in years."

"Come to think of it," Dean agreed, "I haven't spent a day like that since… Lisa." He smiled sadly, a brief flash of their last visit coming to mind.

"Mmm-hmm, Amelia for me…" Sam's almost-constant smile from the day faltered, and he buried his head in the fridge, moving stuff around.

Cas looked around, but said nothing. He didn't have anything to add: this had been the only "normal" day he'd ever had. He turned his back to the others, his smile dropping immediately as he gripped the handle of the knife tightly and began to chop vegetables for dinner.

Much later, he lay in bed, Dean curled around him. "Got the stir-crazy out of your system now?" he asked, his head against Cas' chest in the darkened room.

"I can't be kept in a dungeon for weeks at a time, Dean."

"Brush up in the shooting range, and I'll take you for more Nancy Drew books," he promised, shifting up to kiss his neck. Cas nodded in response, and kissed his head before Dean moved, turning over. Cas turned to spoon him, and they soon fell asleep.

After making three head-shots in a row, Dean took him into town. When they reached the used books store, he pushed a stack onto the counter, and stated, "Store credit" before wandering off. They left with Cas' messenger bag filled to the brim.

"Now that we've bought them out, lunch?" Dean asked, glad to be truly alone with him for the first time in awhile. Sam had offered to stay behind with Kevin to watch over the tiny prophet during another one of his tablet-translation benders.

They sat in the diner heartily digging into burgers while they both resisted the urge to flirt with the waitress. After a sip of his coke, Cas met Dean's gaze and said, "Thank you for humoring me."

"Heh. Well, 'happy wife, happy life', right?"

Cas scowled momentarily before replying, "I'm not your wife."

"Relax, you big baby. It was a joke." Dean rolled his eyes and started back in on his burger.

After lunch, the two headed to the local arboretum. "_Dean_! Wild life, bees!" He pointed to a large flower section and Dean followed him, amused with how excited a grown man could look about _bees_. He knew he'd be bored – plants were more Sammy's thing. But he was glad to have his boyfriend happy for once.

When they lay in bed that night lazily kissing, he couldn't help but notice Cas' good mood still hadn't faded. "Dean?"

"Yeah?" he replied, his lips grazing his neck as he spoke.

"Tomorrow I need you to do something for me."

"What's that?" he answered, moving a hand slowly up Cas' thigh.

"I need you to buy a box of magnums."

Dean's eyebrows shot up, asking, "You sure?" Cas nodded.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's note: Title taken from a song by Vaux.

**Sex Will Happen Tonight**

The next morning, Dean was up early: he downed a cup of coffee and was in the process of plating up breakfast when Sam shuffled in. "Dig in," he said, gesturing to the table: orange juice, a plate of waffles, and a giant stack of bacon sat in the center. As he pulled syrup out of the fridge, he announced, "We forgot to buy eggs." They tucked into the meal and were halfway through by the time Cas joined them. He poured himself a cup of coffee and refilled Dean's, then sat down.

"Sammy, here," Dean pulled a twenty from his wallet and threw it across the table.

Sam looked at it surprised, asking, "What's this for? I don't think we need that many eggs, Dean."

"Take the twerp to a movie. He keeps complaining about my westerns." Sam pocketed the bill, as Dean added, "And the strip club – he needs a night out." He threw another bill – a fifty - at him.

"So you guys aren't going, I take it?"

"Maybe we'll hit up a topless bar next week. But we've already got plans," he replied. Sam nodded, shooting his brother a knowing look. Kevin saved the two from a very unnecessary prying by taking that moment to enter the kitchen. He looked around bleary-eyed, on the verge of collapsing until he downed his cup of coffee.

As he sat down, Sam piped up, "Kevin, we're going to the movies tonight. Decide what you wanna see." He nodded in response, rubbing sleep out of his eyes before claiming the last waffle.

Cas and Dean went into town, finally locating the porn store on the outskirts. As they exited the impala, Dean stated, "Go big or go home, right?" Cas smirked, following him inside.

After flashing their IDs (seriously? Dean was in his thirties, and Cas was a couple millennia old), they wandered around, taking in the warehouse-sized layout: they passed the DVD racks, every _Casa Erotica_ video on display, and several heavily-augmented mannequins wearing fetish lingerie. When they reached the magazine racks, Dean hesitated in front of a copy of _Busty Asian Beauties_. Cas reached out and grabbed a _Penthouse Forum_ to his right, and tossed it in his basket. As he caught Dean's eye, he shrugged before he turned towards the clothing racks. He snagged the magazine before he caught up to Cas, the dirty magazines being the catalyst to a small spree: bottles and packets of lube joined the basket next, followed by cock rings and a pair of panties. Cas looked down at Dean's latest addition with mild amusement but said nothing.

Eventually, they stopped in front of the condom wall. He'd been in a few porn shops in his time, but Dean had never seen anything like _this_: the racks of condoms were almost as tall as he was, stopping a foot above the ground. They were organized by type – "for her pleasure", "for his pleasure", "flavored", "lubricated"...

Castiel reached out and picked a box of magnums off the shelf. He handed them to Dean, peering intently at the section labeled "for the big guys". He handed Dean three other boxes and stated, "Okay, I think we're done."

"Ya think?" he responded, gesturing to the dozen condoms.

"And if they don't work out, we can always give them to Sam."

"What? Ew. TMI, Cas."

"Like you weren't aware, he's _your_ brother."

"Dude, stop talking about his junk or I'm gonna be limp all night." Cas looked like he was holding in a chuckle, but nodded. It always struck him as funny how uncomfortable the Winchesters were discussing their respective sex lives, given their sometimes unhealthy level of attachment. _It is what it is,_ as Dean would say. He shrugged his shoulders and walked beside Dean to pay.

When they returned, Sam was shrugging on his jacket. "Whatcha got there?" he asked, gesturing to the black plastic bag in Cas' hand.

"Pornography," he answered, before Dean had a chance to field the question. He blew past Sam, a blush blooming on his cheeks. Cas just held Sam's stare until he looked away.

"Kevin? C'mon!" he yelled voice higher from embarrassment. Cas walked by the flustered man, following Dean into his room. He sat on the bed and kicked off his boots as Cas locked the door behind them.

"I find your brother ceases his questions if you answer immediately, especially if the answers cause him discomfort."

"You try to embarrass him to stop asking stuff?" Dean broke into a grin: "I should've thought of that."

Cas sat down on the bed, and emptied the bag in front of him. He rifled through the packages, reading the backs of the condom boxes. Dean watched him with amusement, absentmindedly unbuttoning his red flannel. By the time he looked up, Dean was thumbing through his copy of _Penthouse_.

He plucked it from his hands, parroting, "'No sharing porn,' remember?" Dean glared at him, but didn't try to snatch it back. "We only have three hours at best until they get back. We should probably get started."

As he bent down to peel off his socks, Dean joked, "Way to woo a guy, Cas." Castiel cleared the bed of most of the paraphernalia, while Dean stripped himself of his T-shirt. Cas pulled the lube out from the nightstand and set a magnum next to it on the bed. When he turned back to Dean, he found him kicking off his jeans.

He closed the distance quickly, pulling Dean in for a kiss. He responded enthusiastically, his hands working on Cas' buckle. After unzipping him, he leaned away for long enough to order, "Take these off."

Cas wriggled out of his jeans and pulled off his T-shirt before rejoining their lips. Their mouths were a hard crush of lips and tongue, breathing out need as their hands moved lower. They had fallen onto their sides, each trying to stroke the other through underwear. "Fuck this," Dean muttered and pulled Cas' boxers down.

He fell onto his back, tilting his hips up to get out of them, pushing socks off with his feet. Cas took Dean's waistband and pulled them down, wanting to regain skin contact as soon as possible. He let Cas tug his boxers off completely, but was surprised when he was pushed onto his back. He climbed on top of Dean and caged him in with his arms, his hips moving as he kissed along his neck; He shuddered under the touch, his skin sensitive and begging for more.

He grinned, feeling Cas' hard length pressed against his thigh. He shuddered as Cas' hands traveled over freckled skin, his plush lips brushing over a nipple. He kissed the small bud, Dean's breath hitching from over-sensitivity. As he flicked his tongue out to lick it, he felt Dean's hard cock twitch between their stomachs. He moved to the other one, and Dean bucked his hips up, gasping. His mouth moved lower and swallowed Dean down. Dean moaned in surprise, fisting messy brown hair. He'd been thinking about tonight since he woke up, and the anticipation had him on edge; so neither was surprised when Dean yelled, "Cas!" within minutes and came down his throat.

Cas ran the back of his hand along his mouth to wipe it dry, and motioned for Dean to sit up. Dean brought his lips to Cas, tasting himself on Cas' tongue as he invaded his mouth. When they pulled away, Cas gestured for Dean to move. He quickly occupied the space Dean had just been in, getting onto his hands and knees. He spread his legs wide, his leaking cock hanging heavy between his legs as he canted his ass up. As Dean moved into position, looking for the lube and condom in the tangle of covers, he heard Cas beg, "Please… I want you inside me."

Almost as soon as the utterance had left his lips, Dean was pressing a slick digit against his hole. He knew he had to prep Cas well so he'd have time to get hard again. He stroked the outside to relax Cas' muscles before pushing inside. As he gently worked the digit into the tight space, his other hand caressed Cas anywhere he could touch: his back, his cheeks, and his legs before reaching between them. He stroked him to take the edge off, and was soon working another finger inside of him.

This part took longer, as it always did. The slight burn and feeling of pressure was becoming familiar to Cas, and he breathed deeply, arching into it. His focus had been narrowed to his rim as the fingers worked their way around his hole. The full feeling was something he'd come to love, even before Dean found his prostate. At first contact with the spot his cock twitched, his entire passage suddenly the highlight of his attention; when Dean brushed over it again Cas groaned, pleading "_More_."

Two fingers became three, the cool slide of lube easing their way. Cas arched his back harder, wanting to get the full contact of the fingers against his walls. Dean brushed over his prostate again, alternating pressure to coax the best sounds out of Cas. His legs trembled, his cock twitching in reaction, as he panted out, "_Dean, please_…"

His voice had gone lower, becoming husky and needy. Dean watched in amazement as his three fingers sunk in without resistance, the muscles of Cas' hole fluttering around the digits. Dean felt himself began to harden, his cock crooking up towards his stomach. He looked up from the growing ache between his legs to Cas' back, noticing the fine trembling of Cas' limbs and the bunching of his shoulders.

With a final stroke to that special spot, he withdrew his fingers, reaching for the condom with his other hand. Cas felt a loss at the suddenly empty sensation, but forced himself to relax at the sound of the condom snapping. Dean noticed it wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as he was used to; guess he really did need magnums. He lubed himself up, and brushed the rest against Cas' already-slick hole. He kept the lube close by as he moved in closer. Despite his best efforts, Cas' breath still hitched in surprise when Dean's cock brushed against his hole. "It's okay, Cas," Dean soothed, lining himself up.

He redoubled his efforts to relax, and Dean asked, "Are you ready?" Cas nodded.

With a slow push, the head of Dean's cock was in, stretching him in unexpected ways. Dean stilled as he felt muscles clench around him. Cas took another deep breath and Dean pushed again, working his achingly hard length into him. He stilled, shifting all his focus on Cas' erratic breathing. He rubbed his back and tried to comfort him: "Almost there, okay? Just relax."

He took a deep breath to calm himself, the sensation threatening to overwhelm him. He felt Dean grab his hips before his hands traveled up, rubbing light circles against the small of his back. "Okay," Cas managed to say, focusing in on the touch of Dean's hands.

Dean pushed in until he bottomed out. Being seated fully inside his lover was nearly too much to handle, but his bit the inside of his lip to focus. "That's it, there… took it so good. Won't move until you say."

Cas was breathing hard, trying to relax even though he felt like he was being split in half. He arched his back and focused his attention on the steady throbbing between his legs. A pleading groan escaped his lips and Dean reached forward, stroking him. The edges of pain he felt burning deep inside him began to fade. "Okay," Cas acknowledged, and Dean began a slow rhythm, still stroking. The angle was awkward, but he was finally beginning to relax.

Dean brought his other hand to Cas' shoulder and asked, "If we move, think you can use your legs?"Cas nodded absently, unwilling to focus on anything but Dean's hand. His hips stilled, and he reached a hand out, grasping Cas' shoulder with sure hands.

"Lean back," he ordered, pulling on Cas' shoulder. He came up off his hands until he was kneeling on the bed, half-sitting in Dean's lap. He moved his thighs with Dean's thrusts, changing angle until he felt that spark. The head of Dean's cock grazed his prostate, and he choked back a moan, clenching around it.

"Like that?" he asked, angling the same way a second time.

Cas leaned his head back against Dean's shoulder and breathed out a "_Yes_," bracing against the mattress. Dean leaned forward, nibbling Cas' prone neck. His pace increased slowly, drawing small, needy noises from Cas' lips.

The white-hot heat and pressure of Cas' body was greater than any he'd ever felt; like he was clamped in a slick vice, the condom barely did anything to dull the sensation. He drew in a shaky breath, determined to make this last. He knew he was stroking Cas just the way he liked – medium pressure, short strokes, flick of the wrist… and as he hit his prostate again, a throaty groan was wrenched from him. The sound was even lower than usual, and rougher, with a sharp inflection that made it obvious he'd been trying to keep it in. Dean loved this sound more than anything because it meant that he'd reached a level where he couldn't keep quiet, couldn't control himself anymore. The sound came again as Dean bit his neck.

The occasional shake of Cas' thighs had become a full tremor, and he shuddered out a "_Dean…_" All thought flew out the window with that sound and Dean increased his pace, already blissed out of his mind.

"I never want this to end," Dean breathed out, angling to hit Cas' prostate again. His breath came out in rough shudders, his hand gripping Cas' hip tight.

"_Dean, please…_" Cas whimpered, his cock throbbing in Dean's hand. He was oversensitive by this point, and didn't know how much longer he could wait. "_I need…_" he began, words almost too difficult at this point. He clenched around Dean weakly, and that was_ it_ in Dean's mind: they could have all-day sex some other day. Cas needed to cum, and he wasn't about to deny him.

"_Deeeaaannn_," Cas moaned feebly, feeling lips on his neck. He sighed, thrusting into Dean's pumping fist.

He wouldn't hold on for much longer, for which Dean was grateful; he didn't know how much longer he could stave off his own orgasm. Dean's words were nearly reduced to pants at this point, slowing to hit Cas' prostate over and over again. "Can you cum with me baby?"

In response, Cas let out a wrecked "_Dean!_" He clenched tightly around him, spurting over Dean's slowing hand. His hands went from the mattress to the tops of Dean's thighs, gripping him fiercely as he rode through it.

That was all he needed: Dean grabbed his hips with both hands and thrust in deep, moaning, "_Cas!_" His hips jerked of their own accord, as he gasped "Oh… _fuck_," sweat dripping down his temples. Even through the condom, Cas could feel the sudden heat inside of him, and he clenched involuntarily. Dean groaned at the feeling, before reverting to pants against his shoulder. He braced himself against Cas for a few moments, still shaking. Then he reached down with one hand and holding the condom firmly, slowly pulled out. He tied it off and threw it away before he lay down flat on his back, with his hand tucked behind his head. Cas lay on his stomach, partially draped over Dean's chest as his eyes lazily focused on Dean's anti-possession tattoo. He curled an arm around the exhausted man above him, and pressed a kiss into his hair. Their breathing gradually slowed, and before they knew it, they were fast asleep.

The next morning, Dean woke first. He cleaned them both up, then dressed lazily in a pair of pajama pants and socks. He went into the kitchen to make breakfast.

After a while, Sam staggered in, looking worse for the wear. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table before he noticed Dean's attire: he was wearing an apron instead of a shirt, and cooking pancakes. "Where are your clothes?" Sam asked, meaning to sound vaguely offended only sounding exhausted.

"Relax Sammy. Pancake time." As he turned to serve pancakes onto his plate, Sam noticed a red rash along Dean's collarbone.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing to the angry red skin.

Dean and chuckled and replied, "Beard burn." By then, Dean had turned to the stove so he completely missed the bitch face Sam threw him. By the time Dean turned around again, Cas was by the coffee maker.

He poured himself a cup quietly, but caught Dean's gesturing motion as he greeted "Morning Cas."

"Morning Dean, Sam." He nodded to each one in turn and went to join Dean's side.

Dean turned on the stove hood to muffle their conversation, but Sam managed to catch bits and pieces: "… Okay?"

"Sore… Okay…" Dean pressed a kiss to his cheek, and motioned with the spatula for him to take a seat. As he pulled up a seat, Sam caught the sound of discomfort that escaped Cas. He adjusted his position, trying to get comfortable while Dean pushed pancakes onto his plate.

At that moment Kevin walked in; he was _so_ hung-over, but even he could tell something was up: Cas looked uncomfortable, Dean was watching him nervously, and Sam was eyeing Cas while pretending he wasn't. He seemed to have a look of realization on his face. He got himself some coffee, and asked Sam if they had any aspirin. Sam answered distractedly by pointing to the spice cabinet. He flopped down at the table and Dean pushed pancakes onto his plate giving him a big, goofy grin. He downed the aspirin with the coffee and was pouring himself some juice when Dean turned to sit down. He cast the apron aside and Kevin raised his eyebrows – how had he missed that one of them was half-naked?

"Why aren't you wearing a shirt?"

"Beard burn," he replied pointing his chest, as he began to shovel pancakes into his mouth. Kevin looked over at Cas, who was rubbing his stubble thoughtfully. When he looked over to Sam he noticed how wrecked the man looked, while also slightly horrified. Kevin shrugged, drinking his juice. Dean was practically glowing, grinning at Cas between sips of coffee. Cas seemed to have relaxed but was sporting some serious bed-head, and what was that?

"Is that a hickey?" he asked, gesturing to be purple mark clearly visible above the collar of his t-shirt. Cas reached back towards the tender spot at the nape of his neck. He touched it, hissing slightly from the contact and cleared his throat.

"Uh, yeah." Cas didn't elaborate any further, but then the same look of realization Sam had came into Kevin's eyes.

"Oh my god… You guys did it!" he pointed accusingly at the two, then cracked a grin.

"Yeah, okay? Calm down twerp. " Dean began shoveling pancakes into his mouth again, and Cas sipped his coffee quietly.

"So that's why you wanted us out of the bunker?" Sam asked slowly, and his brother just sent him a go-fuck-yourself face.

"Yes," Cas answered and stared him down, although the barest hint of a blush was creeping across his cheeks by now.

Sam stood up and took his dishes to the sink. "I'm way more hung-over than I thought. I'm… Going back to bed. " As he made his way past Dean's room, he noticed the tangle of blankets; the bottle of lube on the night stand next to box of condoms; and a pile of other sex-shop goods on the side of the bed, next to piles of clothes. The room still smelled faintly of sweat and lube.

Sam shook his head hard, knowing he'd never be able to get that scene out. Well, at least they had been safe about it. He walked quickly to his room, and hoped he'd be able to sleep.

Kevin just got himself another cup of coffee, and finished his breakfast. "So, new subject," Dean prompted. "What'd you guys end up doing?"

"We went to that new sci-fi movie, and hit up a bar afterwards. Some chick bought your brother like, six shots."

"That explains that then," he said gesturing to the empty doorway. "He was supposed to take you to the strip club, though."

"Yeah, and we would've been home two hours earlier." Dean blanched at this, and Cas just chuckled to himself.

"When did you get back? Dean and I must have already been asleep."

"Probably four? I'm not sure – that same girl was throwing Irish car bombs at me."

Dean took a sip of coffee, and remarked, "Seems like she was jonesing for a Devil's threesome."

"A what?" Kevin asked, not sure he wanted to know.

"You know… two guys, one girl."

Kevin made a horrified face and threw his dishes in the sink. "You're disgusting," he replied, before he left the room. Dean chuckled to himself, watching until the twerp disappeared from sight.

Once he was gone, he turned to Cas, his expression suddenly serious: "So you're okay?" Cas nodded. "You sure?"

"Dean, I'm fine. Don't worry about it." Dean's knitted brows relaxed, and he nodded as he began to load the dishwasher. Cas poured himself another cup of coffee and made a comment about showering before he left. Yeah, Dean thought, things were finally starting to come together.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's note: shameless smut and a bit of bitch-face. Trigger warning: suicidal ideation.

**Never Let Me Go**

Time passed for the two quickly: Cas was finally learning to settle into this human thing, and he spent his days honing his skills as a hunter. While the Winchesters didn't take him hunting often, when they did, they didn't regret it. He was light on his feet and was getting better at shooting. He already had the exorcism thing down, to Dean's relief. And if he spent his days trying to be a better hunter, he definitely spent his nights trying to be a better lover.

"_More!"_ he moaned, as Dean bore down on him. Dean yanked on his brown hair, fingers tangling in the nape as he forced his head to the side. He leaned down and bit Cas' neck, leaving a dark red mark. The stark contrast of pain to pleasure made him twitch and shudder. In one swift motion Dean grabbed him in his arms, lifted him off his back and hoisted him onto his lap. Cas' knees went out to stabilize himself and Dean leaned slightly back, letting himself be straddled. Cas sunk down as low as he could go, reveling in the feeling of being filled. Dean reached forward and tightened his grip in his hair and Cas gave a loud yelp at the sensation.

He loved when Dean just _took_ him like this: no hesitation, just need guiding his actions. His cock ached, the metal ring snug around the base catching the light. Dean wanted to "train" him, wanted to see how long he could last. He was getting better and better at this too, staving it off. Cas knew if he waited until he was on the verge of breaking, it would feel so _good _that nothing could match it.

Dean's face broke out into a grin, his eyes flicking from his panting lips to his trembling frame. He leaned up on his elbow, remarking, "You're so good for me, baby." Dean knew he wanted to hear more, and he rolled his hips in a particularly sinuous way as he spoke: "Nothing else feels this amazing." As Cas' hips undulated in response he let out a moan, almost missing the sharp gasp Cas gave when he brushed against his prostate. "When you straddle my big cock, and I stretch out your tight little ass, I wanna cum right away." He felt Cas clench around him, and he let out a groan. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? If I came inside you, left you sloppy and wet." He kissed along Cas' collarbone, listening to the shuddering breaths above him. "Like the time I bent you over the hood of the impala and took you right then, remember? I came in your tight little hole and you had to sit with it burning you up from the inside until we got to the next town."

He made a noise at the back of his throat that sounded like a whimper as Dean pinched one of his nipples, then the other. "I remember how hot it got you. You crawled onto my lap and threatened to fuck in front of Sam if he didn't leave." He smiled a little, and shifted his hips to hit Cas' prostate again. "You felt so good baby, all fucked out like that…"

Cas gave a rough moan, a sign he was on the edge. He looked down at Cas' twitching cock, and twisted the ring, moving around the lube trapped between it and his skin. He carefully pulled the ring off, taking care not to actually touch his shaft. He'd seen Cas come untouched before and wanted to see it again. Dean grabbed his hips, fingertips sinking into the firm flesh there, as he purred, "Cum with me, baby."

Cas lifted his hips a few more times before his body shuddered, then snapped tight. Digging his nails into his back, he shouted, _"Dean!"_ His cock pulsed as he came between their stomachs.

"_Uhn, Cas!"_ Dean moaned loudly, holding him tight. His hands wrapped around the small of Cas' back, and pulled him closer as his own orgasm ripped through him: his hips stuttered and came to a halt, buried deep inside Cas' ass. He felt Cas clench down on him as he came, white-hot heat bathing his insides. Dean held him tight as small moans tumbled from his lips.

Then, in a reversal of the previous action he leaned down, laying Cas onto his back. He took a minute to stroke Cas' cheek before he leaned back and slowly pulled out. He watched as Cas' hole fluttered close, a slick sheen of lube and cum coating the opening. He flopped down on his back and Cas curled into his side, nuzzling his jaw along Dean's shoulder. Contentedly, he murmured into Dean's ear, "I love you, Dean."

He started, jostling him for a moment before Cas burrowed back against his neck. "I know you do, baby," he replied, grabbing his hand and twining their fingers together. He kissed the side of Cas' head and took a deep breath to relax.

It was the best he could do, and Cas knew that. He promised Dean that it was okay; that he'd waited two millennia just to _meet_ him. He could wait until Dean was ready to say it.

They fell asleep in Dean's bed just like that: Dean laying on his back, with Cas tucked into his right side, his ear against Dean's chest to listen to his heartbeat.

The next morning, Dean was in the kitchen cooking breakfast when Sam wandered in. He bitch-faced his older brother while he got a cup of coffee. "What's wrong with you?" Dean asked, pushing an egg-white omelet onto Sam's plate.

Sam sipped his coffee for a moment before answering: "Oh nothing, just some jerk and his boyfriend keeping me up 'til 3 a.m. with the sounds of noisy man-love."

"I bought you those noise-cancelling headphones for a reason, Sammy. Use 'em."

"They're defective. How many times do I have to tell you?"

"Don't tell me, bitch. Tell Best-Buy." He opened a drawer nearby and rooted around. When he found his wallet, he fished for the card he'd used and the receipt. "Here - and make sure they work this time." Sam sighed irritably, but was soon silenced by the awesomeness that was his breakfast.

Kevin stumbled in sometime later, murmuring how prophecy and rum didn't mix. He made himself a cup of coffee, and Dean pushed sunny-side-up eggs onto his plate, completing the smiley face he'd made with bacon and hash browns. He tried to smile down at his plate, knowing it wasn't every day that Dean went to extra effort, but he looked green. He sipped his coffee slowly and eyed Sam confusedly. "What's wrong with you?" he asked, picking at his hash browns.

Sam just pointed at Dean, and Kevin nodded knowingly. "You know, you could just move into the bedroom near mine. Or the one near the dungeon."

"Those are half as big," Sam mumbled, and Dean gestured pointedly to the receipt. Sam pocketed it and the card as Cas staggered in. He got coffee and sat down at the empty seat, which Dean had outfitted with a pillow. He arranged himself gingerly as Dean plated up his breakfast.

Sam and Kevin gave each other an amused look – this went on at least once a week: Dean would wake up earlier than anyone else and make everyone's favorites; Cas would inevitably follow later, looking (or feeling) like he'd had sex with a storm instead of a person. His clothes would be skewed, his hair disheveled, and his exposed skin would show a spread of bruises and scratches. Once he'd found a comfortable position at the table, he'd look at Dean with this intense look of adoration and desire.

It hadn't always been like this. After their first time, Cas had been very quiet and discreet, although Dean was virtually the same. But the others caught on quickly, realizing the two were making up for lost time, so now Cas didn't care.

That was the thing about Cas – if, as an angel he failed to grasp the social intricacies of humanity, as a human now himself he failed to care about anything approaching decency or manners. And that was something that Dean needed – someone who wouldn't care if he talked with his mouth full or over-shared, since Cas did the same and then some.

It was funny how easily the four of them fell into a routine. When Sam and Dean had brought Cas back to the bunker, it had been rough. Both Kevin and Sam remained on guard around him, fearing fallout from the disaster he'd (inadvertently) caused. Dean however, hovered protectively around the former-angel. Given this, it wasn't surprising that he'd been the only one to see the signs: Cas became unresponsive, quieter. He went to sleep earlier, and woke later. He sought out privacy and drew back from Dean.

Soon after, Dean caught him in his bedroom trying to down a bottle of whiskey in one go. Considering Cas' tolerance was comparable to a 90 lb. girl's these days, he ran in and wrenched it away. _"You've had enough,"_ Dean snapped.

"_No_," he disagreed, words slightly slurring. "Have to fix it…"

"Fix what?"

"Angels… falling, heaven. _I_ was the catalyst. If I die, spell's power goes."

"WHAT? Who the _hell_ told you that?"

"Angels, reaper. I'm no use without my powers…"

"No Cas, _you're no use to us dead_." He sighed, his jaw trembling. "Come on, man… I need you."

Cas just slumped over, his head in his hands. Before either of them had a chance to say anything else, he started crying. Dean sat on the bed next to Cas, and rubbed his back. Neither of them spoke for a long time, Cas quietly sobbing into his hands. When his eyes finally dried, Dean simply asked, "Okay?"

"Okay," Cas responded in answer, a promise.


	6. Chapter 6

**Touch that Doesn't Corrupt**

Once Cas realized he wasn't going anywhere, he began to acclimatize to human life. It was at once infuriating and hilarious: Cas would walk out of the shower naked as a jay bird, or casually peruse the nudie mags in Dean's bedroom.

"Cas, put on some clothes!" Sam screeched, dropping the remote onto the table.

"Why? We all possess the same parts. The human body isn't shameful."

Kevin walked into the living room and nearly dropped the bowl of popcorn he was carrying, mouth gaping. "_Um…_ do you two need some privacy?"

Sam turned bright red at this and his eyes widened. "No, _no_. It's not like that!"

Cas squinted at Kevin, his demeanor completely calm: "I am not making sexual overtures to him, no."

Dean strode into the room and stopped in his tracks. Castiel was standing naked in _their _living room when they were _supposed_ to be watching "Die Hard". "CAS!" Dean yelled threateningly.

Cas turned around, the same narrow-eyed look now focused on his freckled face. Dean's mouth went dry temporarily as he dragged his eyes down the brunette's body. His cock gave a twitch of interest, but he forced himself to look away. He cleared his throat and took a sip of beer. "Put some damn clothes on!" Cas looked back at him defiantly.

"You're making everyone else _uncomfortable_, man," he nearly pleaded, unable to meet his piercing gaze. By this point, Kevin had recovered enough mobility to join Sam on the couch, and Cas stood with his back to the both of them. All the boys could see of the conversation was Dean's slowly-blushing face.

"Everyone?" Cas repeated a knowing look in his eyes.

Dean took another sip of his beer, and replied without full conviction, "_YES. Go_." With that, he left the room. Ever since, he came out of the shower room in a towel en route to his room.

"Cas, what the hell?!" He lay on his stomach, casually thumbing through a copy of _Busty_ _Asian Beauties_ on Dean's bed.

"This is a niche market. Asian woman are not as ample as this generally." Dean marched up to the bed and yanked the magazine from his hands.

"Get your own porn, Cas. We're not in junior high _– no sharing_." Cas grumbled something about hypocrisy and left the room.

Sam emerged into the bunker triumphant, holding a new pair of noise-cancelling headphones. And it was none too soon, as Castiel and Dean were holed up in Dean's room, stripped down to underwear. Castiel lay on top of Dean, rutting into him. "Dean," he started, and it took the other a few minutes to realize he was supposed to answer.

"Yeah?" he panted, reaching for the waistband of Cas' boxers.

"Want to … switch. Wanna fuck you…" he answered, breathless.

"_Again?_ Aren't you tired?"

Cas leaned back onto his knees, grabbing Dean's thighs and parting his legs. He stroked Dean a few times over the pair of panties he was wearing. His hand trailed down, until his finger brushed over his hole. "_I_ want to fuck _you_, Dean."

Dean clenched reflexively. "We'll talk tonight, promise," he murmured against Cas' ear. He scooted down under Cas, and wrapped his lips around his cock…

"Dean, have you thought about it?" he asked as they lay in bed that night, sated after steaks and "Top Gun".

"Yeah, it's just… Cas, you're an inch bigger than me." He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to hold the former-angel's gaze.

"I thought the discrepancy didn't bother you?" Cas knew this was often a sore spot for most human males, but he thought he'd found one not quite as shallow.

"It doesn't. No, what I mean is, don't you think that will hurt? How am I supposed to take an _eight_ inch cock?"

Cas grinned slyly, and rubbed his arm soothingly. "By practicing, of course," he answered matter-of-factly. "Prep you, work you open… like you did with me." Dean's shoulders unbunched. Cas kissed his neck and added seductively, "I'll give you as much time as you need. I want you to _like_ it, _to want it_…"

He shuddered and answered, "Okay. Tomorrow, we'll… practice."

Cas smiled and kissed his neck. "Thank you, Dean."

After another visit to the porn shop, they sat on Dean's bed looking over their cache of lube and condoms. "You sure this stuff's the best?" he asked, turning the bottle over in his hands.

"It's what feels the best to me." He looked through the lube packets, and then turned his eyes to the pile of rubbers. "Why do we have so many of these?"

"Better safe than sorry. I know we get tested all the time, but we also get stabbed and bitten all the time. Or I do, at least."

"But Dean, we don't use them _all_ the time."

"Well, no one's perfect… Let me tell them they're on their own for dinner and shower." He reached the door and turned, gesturing to the bed. "You can take care of this."

After his shower, he locked the door behind them and strode over to the bed. "I told them if they knocked on the door, I'd break their fingers. They probably think I'm doing something kinky to you." Cas shrugged and pulled on the towel covering Dean's hips. As it slid down his skin revealing his naked form, Cas' eyes darkened and he licked his lips. He grabbed Dean's wrist and pulled him onto the bed. After kissing for awhile, Cas pulled back.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Dean answered, and got onto his knees.

"If it hurts, tell me." Cas opened the bottle of lube and caressed his skin gently. He got a finger wet and trailed it down until he got to his entrance. He paused to lube up the finger more, and asked Dean to breathe.

He circled around the muscle for a minute, and then began to push in. He went slowly, only pushing in on Dean's exhales, and rubbed Dean's side soothingly. Once he managed to get it all the way in he waited, listening to Dean's breathing. It was shaky and when he reached between his legs, he noticed Dean had gone soft. "Dean, how does it feel?"

"J - Just move."

Cas began to move the finger in and out, stroking Dean back to hardness with the other hand. After awhile, he began to feel along the inside wall, listening raptly to Dean's reactions. He felt Dean's cock twitch suddenly, and he slid the finger back over the spot. It twitched again and his hole clenched. After a deep breath, Cas could move again. "You're so damn hot," Cas praised, slowly drawing his finger out. "Can you handle more?"

Dean nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He lubed two fingers up and slowly worked them in. He stilled, stroking Dean's cock until he relaxed. He moved in and out slowly, feeling for the spot again. "All right?"

He managed a "yeah" in between deep breaths; aside from feeling strange, it was making him feel vulnerable. Cas brushed his prostate again and could feel his walls relax, although his rim clenched around his fingers, holding them in place.

Cas patiently attended to his prostate, while still stroking his now-leaking cock. Dean slowly relaxed into the feeling, although the uncomfortable emotional state remained. "Want more?" Cas crooned, stroking the spot with different pressures to test his response. This was something Dean liked to do to him, and he hoped Dean would like it done to him, too.

In between pants, Dean answered "Too much…"

"You want me to stop?" Dean nodded even as the drag of fingers over his prostate caused him to let out a moan. Cas withdrew the fingers and pumped his hand faster, watching in fascination at the way he gripped the sheets and bunched his shoulders as he came. He slowly sunk down on his stomach afterwards and Cas looked around. He spotted the towel and wiped his hands dry, realizing Dean needed him to stay. With a different corner of the towel, he wiped Dean clean, and then lay down next to him.

"How was it?" he asked, stroking Dean's back.

"Did you feel…? Nevermind."

"No, tell me. What?"

"Vulnerable?" he asked, embarrassed.

"Of course. But I wanted to share that act with you. I wanted to be okay feeling that way because of you. That's… why it took me so long." Cas looked fairly embarrassed at this admission, but tried to smile anyway. Dean nodded and curled up against Cas, his breathing evening out as he drifted off to sleep. Cas kissed the top of his head, and tightened his arm around him. He turned the lamp off.

The next day, Dean sat down at the kitchen table and his eyes widened. He bit the inside of his cheek to avoid crying out and sucked in a deep breath. Luckily Sam was getting coffee and therefore noticed none of this. He chewed on his toast thoughtfully, and tried to ignore the burning ache he felt…

"What am I supposed to do, Cas? Just not sit down?" Cas looked back at his hyperbolizing boyfriend.

With a shrug, he replied, "You get used to it."

Dean swore under his breath and carefully sat down on his bed. "We'll have to pick this up tomorrow," he stated, gesturing to the lube on the nightstand. Cas nodded and the two slept in each other's arms.

Much like they'd done with Cas, "practicing" with Dean was a gradual process, one that spanned months. However unlike Cas, Dean voiced his discomfort – often. After a particularly vigorous session, Dean lay on the bed on his side: "Geez, why even work up to sex? I'm already sore and feel like shit. How do you _ask _me for this?"

"It's not getting better?" Cas asked, drawing him up into his arms.

"I guess… physically. But I feel raw." He refused to meet Cas' eyes, even though his warm gaze was focused on his freckled face.

"There's no rush, Dean. I love you." He nuzzled against Cas' neck and hugged him tighter.

Dean was careful for weeks; neither Sam nor Kevin figured out what the two had been up to. After all, he was still fucking Cas senseless and acting like his usual jerky self. He made breakfast in the morning, struggled with research in the afternoon, and taught Cas to cook at night. So when one morning Cas asked him if he was all right, he wasn't expecting it. Sam was at the coffee pot but could hear them as he stirred milk into his coffee. "Not _now_," Dean growled.

Sam sat down at the table and added, "You know Dean hates talking about his feelings." He chuckled, and then took a sip of coffee.

"This has nothing to do with emotions," Castiel responded, and Dean kicked him under the table. He glared, but was blissfully silent after that. Sam eyed the two suspiciously, but went back to his coffee…

"Cas, what the hell?"

"Your anger over my concern is confusing," he replied, perched on the edge of Dean's bed.

"Look," he started, lowering his voice and getting close, "I'm glad you're concerned. But I don't need you talking about our sex life in front of Sam or Kevin. It was my idea to switch originally – I'm cool with that. But I'm _not_ cool with Sammy knowing about it. It's private."

"Okay," Cas agreed, slowly. He didn't understand really, but decided to address the point when Dean was less agitated.

A few more weeks passed, and Dean was finally beginning to get comfortable. "How do you feel?" Cas asked, rubbing Dean's forearms soothingly.

"Better," Dean admitted, and curled up tighter against Cas' front, while Cas spooned him.

"Good," he responded, kissing behind his ear.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's note: Internalized homophobia and bad parenting (from John Winchester). References to physical abuse. Skip if this triggers you.

**Not an Apple pie Life**

Sometimes the two weren't on the same wave-length. Dean came in from a hunt to have Cas hanging all over him. He shrugged his shoulders, trying to shake him off. "God damn it, Cas! _Get off of me_!"

"Dean – I would thank you to leave my father out of this." His tone was stern, but he still eyed Dean lasciviously.

"Sam and I just bagged a Rugaru. All I need is to take a shower and pass out."

Cas got in close again, and began rubbing him over his jeans. He kissed Dean's neck and Dean sighed in spite of himself. "Look, I like you Cas, but_ not tonight_. I'm sore and bloody. The last thing I want right now is to get down on my haunches while you finger me for an hour."

That finally seemed to do it; Cas apologized and backed off. When Dean crawled into his bed that night, Cas was already asleep, curled around a pillow that still smelled faintly like Dean. He pressed up against the former-angel's back, kissing an apology onto his neck. Sometimes, he just needed his space.

Other times, Dean was more receptive to Cas' attention. Occasionally, he even felt like _sharing_. "Cas, can I talk to you about something?"

"Of course, Dean. What's up?" Cas tried out the phrase, sounding incredibly awkward. But the look on his face was priceless, and Dean laughed, the knot of tension in his shoulders easing.

"I wanted to know if you knew the full extent you pulling me out of hell had on me… mentally."

"I knew you felt unworthy, but beyond that…" Cas just shrugged, his gaze fixed on Dean's.

"I'm telling you this so you can understand me, the things I've _done_, better. When you brought me back, I had all my memories from before. But everything else permanent – the mental blocks, the defense mechanisms – they were just _gone_. So what I'd done in the past… things I'd dealt with, or locked away, were back full-force. Sure, attaching 'love' to Sam or Bobby wasn't a hard concept, but all that horrible shit from my childhood had to be handled." He stopped to clear his throat. "I had to re-learn how to deal. That's why I spent so long feeling worthless and empty – the pain was just too great. In a way, you helped me. If I hadn't worked through my memories of dad's homophobic 'lessons', I would've believed it again. And I woulda never had the balls to imagine you might feel the same way about me."

Cas knew this sort of thing happened very rarely. He had to choose his words carefully: "When you say 'lessons,' what do you mean?"

"At first it was shitty comments about people being 'fags'. But then I got older, and he seemed driven to make sure we were men. Not just hunting but the drill sergeant thing; I called him 'sir', kept my hair short, didn't step a toe out of line. I did everything he told me, because 'in the hunter's world, there's no room for pretty boys.' Right before Sam left for college, he tried to do the same thing to him: he actually shaved his head while he was sleeping, and yelled when Sam would act 'too touchy'." He smiled at the memory of his cue-ball brother; Sam looked hilarious without hair.

"Not that I'd ever admit it to him, but Sam got off kinda easy; one impromptu haircut and screaming matches didn't really justify their grudge to me. But uh… after Sammy left, it got worse: sure, he'd been smacking me around for acting up since I was sixteen – I was _used _to that. But then the 'intensive training' started. He taught me how to resist water-boarding, how to fight in sensory deprivation conditions, and how to track basically everything. I'm not sayin' it wasn't useful or that I didn't need to know it. But just like they do in the military, he 'broke' me. And when he built me back up into a soldier, he forgot that element of care. He always said actions spoke louder than words, but he still told _Sam_ he loved him. I… never got that." Dean's eyes were glassy and his jaw trembled, but he held Castiel's gaze.

Cas reached out and drew him in for a hug. They sat there just clinging to each other for a long time, Cas' stubbled jaw against his shoulder somehow grounding him. Eventually, they pulled apart.

"Thank you, Dean." _For telling me this, for_ _trusting me._

They joined hands and walked to the bedroom in a comfortable silence.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's note: Yes, Dean is quoting Rihanna.

**Trust, Another Word for Love**

The next afternoon after lunch, Cas cornered Sam in the library. "I need you out."

"Why?" Sam asked, still not used to the unwavering gaze thing he did; after all, it was usually fixed on Dean.

"Go to a bar tonight and take Kevin with you. I don't care what you two do, just leave." His tone was stern but his eyes held uncertainty.

"_Why?"_ he asked again, not sure Cas had even heard him.

"I… can't tell you."

"Is it a sex thing?" Cas nodded and Sam laughed.

"Sure. All you had to do was ask, man. Just don't do it in the living room, all right?" Cas gave him an annoyed look and as he walked away he heard Sam call, _"Don't forget the safe word!"_

"Dean, what's a 'safe word'?"

His eyes widened and he nearly spit out his beer. He steered them into Cas' room, closing the door behind him. "Where'd you hear that?"

"Sam," he replied, nonplussed. Dean responded by sighing heavily, and looking ruefully at the closed door.

Finally, he spoke: "It's a word you say when you want something to stop. It's usually an S&M thing."

"S&M…" Cas repeated, looking thoughtfully at a point just beyond Dean's shoulder.

"You know, _'sticks_ _and stones may break my bones/ but chains and whips excite me'_."

"Chains and whips excite you?" Cas asked, surprised. He figured after his time in hell that would be the _last _thing Dean would want.

"No. It's… this pop song I got stuck in my head. What I get for listening to the radio, I guess. Anyway, it's handcuffs and stuff like that, in bed. I'd show you porn to clarify, but all that comes up is pretty… extreme."

"Oh… So, we don't need one?"

"Not unless you want me to start tying you up." Cas laughed and it warmed Dean's heart. Cas rarely laughed these days – he smiled, sure, but it was always a small, sleepy one or a sad, wavering one. Dean leaned in and kissed Cas hard.

Later that night, the bunker was so quiet it was unnerving. "Where _is_ everyone?" Dean asked, plating up burgers.

"Sam said he was taking Kevin to a bar," Cas replied distractedly, eyes on the hamburgers in front of him.

"Oh yeah?" he responded, then added, "Maybe they'll get laid, be less of a drag."

Cas smiled and sipped on a beer. They ate in peace, and then caught a re-run of "Los Preciosos y Fabulosos." As the last chords of flamenco guitar drifted from the TV, Cas turned to Dean. "Dean?"

"What's up?"

"Well, we're _completely _alone. I was wondering if tonight, we could..?" He trailed off, but looked suggestively at him. Dean finished his beer and got up, beckoning for Cas to follow. They went to Dean's room, and he locked the door behind them, before he spun around to face Cas.

"_You planned this_," he accused, closing the distance between the two.

"I _may_ have threatened your brother, yes."

Dean's eyes lit up in laughter, and his lips quirked into a smile. "You're awesome," he replied, wrapping his arms around the other's waist.

They kissed feverishly, stripping one another with practiced skill. Despite this, as the full weight of the situation dawned upon Dean, he trembled under Cas' touch. Cas noticed the change and murmured against his neck, "All right, Dean?"

He took a deep breath and replied, "I can't believe I'm saying this but… go easy on me."

Cas kissed his earlobe, responding "Don't worry. I'll be gentle." Aside from feeling like he was stuck in a romance novel, Dean relaxed.

Once they'd divested completely they climbed under the covers, touching each other all over. When the pads of Dean's calloused fingers brushed Cas' nipples, he arched up into the feeling, letting out a little moan. Cas let him take the lead, knowing the routine soothed Dean. On the other hand, although touching Cas calmed him, Dean was hyper-aware of every touch he felt. He kissed along Cas' neck, slotting their erections together.

The haze of arousal affected them both and Cas' kisses became deeper, his touches more demanding. The two were becoming lost in overwhelming need, their erections hanging heavy between their legs. Cas nuzzled against Dean's ear murmuring, "Turn over."

His heart sped up, trepidation palpable as he flipped himself onto his stomach. He soon felt hands on his back, kneading the tension from his shoulders. The feeling of Cas' strong fingers gripping and working his stiff muscles was something he hadn't even known he'd needed until now. He relaxed into the feeling, content to let Cas kiss and touch him for as long as possible.

As he worked his hands lower he straddled the back of Dean's thighs, feeling a slight tickle as his balls dragged against the sensitive skin there. As he shifted down to work out a particularly bad kink, he felt Cas' erection brush along the cleft of his ass. His cock gave a throb against the mattress and he felt himself bucking backwards. Something shifted in his mind, and he moaned needily into his pillow. Cas gave a low groan and brushed against him again, kissing between his shoulder blades.

He shifted back, parting Dean's legs to kneel between them. He leaned forward, grabbing Dean over his hand-print scar and pulled him back. Dean's heart raced when the two connected; it was something that had always happened when Cas was an angel, some transfer of energy between the two. Now, even though Cas was human, Dean's body had been conditioned to react to the action.

Cas shifted his other hand under his body to move the blonde into position. With Dean on his hands and knees, Cas reached for the bottle he'd stashed at the foot of the bed. The loose, sleepy feeling Dean had from the massage was being edged out by the hum of anticipation in the air. Dean licked his lips, breathy shaky as he waited. Cas brushed a lubed fingertip against his hole, stroking against the entrance. He took Dean's cock in his other hand and stroked slowly.

He continued this for several minutes, showing no loss of patience as Dean's hips thrust forward weakly. Dean felt himself relax and Cas eased a finger in. He moved his hand from Dean's leaking cock to rub along the swell of his cheek and slowly moved inside of him, crooking his finger to find the spot. As Cas worked him open, he brushed over the area. Dean shuddered, his cock twitching.

"Okay?" Cas asked, a sort of code between the two; Dean had soon realized he didn't like being asked "more" or saying it. He said it made him feel "like a cock-starved whore". So Cas asked this instead, and Dean nodded his head. More lube and Cas worked the digit back in, a second soon joining it. Dean began to feel the dull burn of being stretched and as if sensing this Cas reached forward again, gripping his cock. After months of practicing, Cas knew exactly how to touch Dean to ease him open. Two fingers gradually became three and Dean shifted back into it, the hand that had been on his cock now holding his cheeks apart.

He knew he was blushing and was glad Cas couldn't see it. Dean felt so _full_, he wasn't sure if he could handle any more. As Cas' fingers brushed his prostate again however, a sentence left his mouth: "Fuck me or make me cum, Cas. This is torture."

He shifted forward, balancing on one hand as he pulled a magnum from the nightstand, before he tossed it back behind him. He shifted down onto his elbows, fingers gripping a pillow his arms had caged in. He arched his back and spread his legs wider, concentrating on the feeling of his cock heavy between his legs as Cas withdrew his fingers. He heard the pop of the lube cap and the tear of the condom foil, but tried his best to keep his breathing even; it still caught when the gold wrapper fluttered into sight. He felt anxiety well up in his throat as he heard the snap of the condom and the slick of more lube against his hole. Cas ran his cock along the cleft of his ass before lining himself up at his entrance. He wrapped a hand against Dean's hip to steady him. Meanwhile, Dean breathed slowly, deeply, eyes now closed to center himself.

"Ready?" Cas asked, his voice low and needy.

Dean nodded in response and no sooner had his head stopped moving Cas pushed in. He groaned loudly, unable to keep the sound in. Cas moved his hand from the base of his own cock to Dean's ass cheek, stroking the swell gently. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern winning over the urge to plow into the tight blonde under him.

"Yeah," he managed between pants. Cas moved again, his hands now both curled around Dean's hips. When he'd drove in to the hilt, he stilled again. He shifted his upper body forward, intent on stroking him back to full hardness.

"I'll stay still until you tell me, Dean." What he silently added, what both understood was "_you are completely in control_."

"_Wait_," was all Dean could manage in response. His arms trembled and he gripped his pillow tighter, breath shallow. He knew Cas was trying as hard as he could, but the feeling was too much: Cas' thick cock throbbed in Dean's hole, threatening to break him apart.

He shifted slightly, pulling on Dean's balls to relieve some of the tension as his leaking cock now curled against his stomach. He felt Cas' five o'clock shadow brush his lower back as he was stroked, and it sent a prickle of pleasure up along his skin.

Cas worked unselfishly, kissing along Dean's freckled skin and stroking him with no thought to his own pleasure. As this thought occurred to Dean he said, voice husky from arousal, "Go."

He shifted back, his hands on Dean's hips once more. So slowly Dean wasn't even sure if he was moving Cas pulled back, a hitched breath issuing from plush lips. He pushed into the tight heat in one stroke, eliciting a groan from the two.

"_So… good_," Cas breathed out lustily.

As he moved, Dean began to relax: he could do this; Cas wasn't going to break him. He shifted, hoping Cas' cock would brush his prostate. Cas moved, opting for short, probing thrusts. He shifted back into place, thinking maybe he wasn't sensitive enough to feel it this way. However, just as he'd given up, the head of Cas' cock pushed against it.

"Cas," he moaned out needily, his cock jerking against his stomach.

He felt Dean clench around him and whispered a _"Fuck,"_ hands now holding his cheeks apart as he watched his cock disappear between them. He did it again, listening to the little needy sounds Dean was being reduced to. Dean was so _tight_ and _responsive_ that it was going to take ever fiber of his being to keep his word to be gentle.

The feeling was so strange: as Cas angled for his prostate, Dean would clench around his cock, drawing it in. As the head made contact with his sweet spot, he'd clench harder, holding Cas in place. The feeling of Cas pushed up against his prostate, his large cock throbbing against that bundle of nerves was driving Dean crazy. And the more he thought about it – what they were _doing_, what Cas was doing _to_ him – the more he felt his balls draw up against his body, full.

The unbearable stretch had become easier to take as he opened up, his iron-grip on the pillow relaxing. Dean began to feel the first wave of pleasure coursing up into his core. It always startled him, getting off like this. He was so used to the localized ache in his balls right before he came that it starting anywhere else was strange, foreign.

"_Unghh_," Dean groaned, so on edge already. Cas was murmuring something to him, but his head was foggy as he brushed the spot again.

"I'm close," Cas repeated, his voice straining from self-control.

"_Cas_," he groaned again, before his orgasm tore through him. He moaned as he came, mostly incoherent nonsense between breathy gasps. Waves of pleasure wracked his body as his hips stilled, his throbbing cock striping the sheet below him. As the waves began to ebb his arms and legs started to shake from exhaustion.

"_Dean!_" Cas shouted. His lips formed the word over and over again as he came. His own knees threatened to give out on him as he shook, gripping Dean's hips tight. He finally stilled, panting hard. It was hard for Cas to come down after that but once he'd managed to pull out, he yanked the sticky top sheet off the bed.

Dean let himself collapse after that, curling onto his side. Cas lay down facing him, a sheen of sweat across his chest catching the light of the lamp. "Just need… a minute," he replied breathless. Dean just nodded, his lips bitten red and skin looking like it was lit from within.

Cas was awestruck and reached a hand out, cupping Dean's cheek gently. Dean stared back at him, wide-eyed. _Vulnerable_, Cas thought, his first time actually seeing it. _"You're so beautiful,"_ he remarked, and a blush crept onto Dean's cheeks.

"Men aren't beautiful," he replied, although his lips had curled into a smile.

"Handsome," Cas retorted, "as a word fails." He licked his lips and dove in, catching those bitten ones between his own. He pulled back, catching the need in Dean's eyes. "I love you, Dean." Cas stroked his cheek, a smile forming on his lips.

Dean looked away as if searching. "I…" he started and stopped, his voice breaking. His eyes met Castiel's again and his jaw trembled for a moment before he tried again. He licked his lips and replied, "I love you too, Cas."

In that instant, it was if all of the air had been sucked out of the room. Blue eyes widened in surprise, then crinkled as Cas smiled. He pulled Dean in for a kiss, then drew back to kiss his forehead. As his lips broke away from skin, he leaned back and clicked off the bedside lamp, shrouding them in darkness. He reached forward again, his hand finding Dean's. He twined their fingers together and soon, they'd both fallen asleep.

*Fin*

Author's note: Well folks, this wraps up part 2 of the "Because We're Family" series. Part 3 is being written at this time, and will begin to be posted once writing is complete. However, I don't expect to have it finished sooner than the fall. In the meantime, if you enjoyed this story and/or series, please let me know by favoriting or reviewing. I plan to post a few one-shots over the summer, so please subscribe to me if you'd like to read more. Thank you guys for all your support! It really means the world to me. :)


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